Summer Heat
by SkinnyLittleLesbian
Summary: Sequel to Spring Thaw. After Snow's defeat, Emma and Regina are left picking up the pieces of a fractured kingdom with an even bigger threat on the horizon. Swan Queen. Updates Fridays.
1. Chapter 1

Henry clung to her for a good, long time. His hands curled into his tunic as he pressed his cheek to her chest and breathed quietly. She was uncomfortable with this level of intimacy, even with her son, but she couldn't bring herself to push him away. So much had happened too quickly – she had expected to die just days before, but after everything she had her son, her wife, and a kingdom's worth of clean up to do. For the moment, she was content with letting him hug her.

"Is it over?" He eventually broke the silence, lifting his head to meet her gaze. There were tears in his eyes, which she would have called weakness in another lifetime; now, though, she just reached up and brushed the moisture away. He was still young, she realized, and his compassion wasn't a detriment. Snow had been utterly lacking in both that and sympathy – and Snow had been a terrible leader. As her complete opposite, Henry would no doubt have much better results.

"Yeah, kid, it is." She kissed his forehead, reveling in how freeing it was to show him some modicum of affection. No backlash rained down upon them – except the disdainful snort of the other person in the room. She cast Daniel a look full of warning before softening her gaze for Henry.

"Is Regina okay?"

She nodded. "She's fine. She saved me."

His gaze brightened. "I knew she would."

"She'll be back at the castle soon. She said she had an errand to run."

"So you're leaving? You can get out of my house?" Daniel glared at them. "Now?"

"I'd speak more gently to your king." Emma released Henry and stood, her hand falling to the hilt of her sword. She'd been gentle with him before out of respect to Regina, but she wouldn't stand for a slight against her son. "Would you care to rephrase."

"Emma," Henry said, his tone both reproachful and commanding, "please leave him alone."

Daniel gritted his teeth. "I'm sorry, my King. I misspoke."

"I don't want to rule by fear, Emma. I don't want to rule at all, but you're making me, so we're going to do it my way, okay?"

She forced her posture to relax. "Fine."

"Let's go home." He slipped his hand into hers and tugged. "Thank you, Daniel, for the use of your home."

She hadn't realized she'd mothered such a little diplomat. He had received lessons for most of his life, though, about leadership – though he seemed to have learned something different than Snow wanted him to be taught. She thought he'd need to be coaxed, coddled, and prodded into leadership, but he wore his authority like a cloak. He expected respect, and others were going to give it to him. He'd gotten that from her, she thought with a chuckle. She couldn't imagine him busting heads to get respect when it was withheld, but she was certain he'd find a way no matter what.

As soon as they were alone, though, his imperious façade faded, and he stared up at her with wide, expressive eyes. He was scared, she noted. His grip on her hand tightened.

"Emma…"

"What's up, kid?"

"Do I have to act like that all the time now?"

She shrugged. "I mean, in front of people, I guess. You're too little to really be king, but we want everyone to know you are. They might think Regina and me are ruling for you for a while, but it's all gotta come from you."

"I can't do it. I don't think…"

"We'll be here to help, Henry."

Tears were once more in his eyes, but he wiped them away himself. He tilted his head up and nodded stiffly. "I don't want to be alone."

"Henry…"

"Don't leave me behind again, okay?"

"Okay."

"That's an order from your king." His lips curled up into a trembling smile.

"As you wish, my liege."

The title transformed his smile into something much more genuine. Maybe, she thought, they could make this work. Things would be wild for a little while longer, but they would take control, they would make things better. Emma firmed her resolve as she realized the magnitude of what needed to happen. At least, she thought, the fighting was over.

0-0-0

"Snow has fallen." The messenger dropped to one knee and bowed his head. He was a big fellow, but looked like a child next to the behemoth to whom he was reporting. "The Knight has won."

Shan Yu shifted his weight, his dark eyes darting around the room while he thought. Too many men assumed he was all brawn and no brains, but he used that to his advantage. Let them think he was a brutal leader with no tact or strategy, he thought, as that made it all the easier to slaughter those who opposed him.

"Dismissed," he growled. All but the woman at his side left immediately; she lingered a moment longer, watching him with curious eyes. "What?"

She recognized that she was in a precarious position but chose to speak her mind anyway. "Was your decision correct?"

"You question me?"

"No." She averted her eyes respectfully. "Had we joined forces with Snow, as her letters demanded, her forces would not have been defeated."

"You get away with too much, warrior." He stood and towered over her. "Perhaps I ought to-"

"My apologies." She stepped away. "Forgive me my curiosity."

"And your interruption." He jerked his head toward the door. "Leave."

Mulan dipped into a sharp bow to show her respect and then walked out of the room. Being home had its advantages, but part of her missed the scent of the woods and the freedom of helping the merry men cause havoc. That had been nearly enough, she thought, to make her happy – but the one for whom she fought was here – and the need to protect Aurora would always bring her home. She walked through the throngs of people waiting for orders and hated that she couldn't simply go to the woman she loved. Instead she found her way to her quarters, where her husband waited.

"News was that good, huh?"

She glanced over where he lounged by the window. "Emma's rebels won."

"Which is what you wanted," he responded. "So why are you so serious?"

He was a decent man, she considered, though he was a fierce fighter and as cold as Shan Yu required once in combat. Shan Yu had killed his father, but rather than poison Shang against Shan Yu, the action had left Shang desperate for leadership and direction. Mulan had asked him once, in the dark silence of a night they'd had together, whether he was truly loyal to the man who had shattered his family. She wasn't good enough at reading people to properly discern if his yes was a lie. The answer, though, had made it clear that they didn't trust one another. To confide in him now about her love for someone else would be foolhardy.

"How long," she said instead, "will it take until Shan Yu strikes against Emma?"

"Not long." He kept his expression as neutral as hers. "They will be weakest now while they transition to new leadership."

"Emma will not just allow her newly freed kingdom to fall."

"Good thing we have Midas's forces and our own. We outnumber them three hundred to one, no doubt."

She turned so he could no longer see her face, just in case she was reacting subtly. "No doubt."

He rose, circled around her, and set a hand on her shoulder. "There is still something troubling you."

She shook her head. "No. I'm simply antsy with the waiting."

"Ah. Uncomfortable without a sword in your hand and a foe at your feet." For a moment, she thought she saw something in his eyes that betrayed his words. Too quickly, though, his gaze hardened once more, and she couldn't be sure of what she'd seen.

"Yes."

"Would you like to practice?"

"I think I'd better rest."

He nodded and went to the door. "I'll leave you in peace."

"Thank you."

At one point she had tried showing him affection, as she thought was expected of her, but any and all physical expressions had petered off. He never instigated, and she never complained. Past their first night together, they barely touched at all – and neither wanted to talk about it. After witnessing Emma and Regina, she wondered just how obvious it was to others that there was nothing between Shang and herself except an agreement.

She curled up on the bed, shut her eyes tightly, and tried to push away her concerns. Rest, however, would not come, as her mind whirred with activity. Stop, she commanded herself. What happened to Emma was none of her business. If she wanted to keep Aurora safe, she needed to do as Shan Yu ordered – even if that order set her at odds with the woman she considered a friend.

0-0-0

"Regina!" Henry scampered forward, uncaring that his future subjects were watching him act so undignified. The dark haired woman was finally back, and he was going to greet his step-mother the right way. He barreled past the people milling about and attacked her midsection. She let out a soft oof and placed a hand on his head.

"Henry, be careful."

He buried his nose against her and shut his eyes. "I was worried."

"I'm fine."

"I didn't know that. Emma said you were out – and what if there were still bad guys around?"

She sighed. "I had to fulfill a promise, Henry."

He pulled back, curious and confused all at once. "A promise?"

Regina stepped aside, revealing a petite boy in a green and brown cloak. He had his thumb jammed between his teeth, and he looked at Henry impassively. There was dirt on his cheeks with prominent white tracks down – he had been crying, Henry determined.

"This is Roland." Regina tried not to remember the circumstances under which she'd met the small boy. Telling a child his parent was deceased was much more difficult than she cared to admit. She'd been gone so long because calming him down had taken more time than she anticipated.

"Why's he here?" Henry stepped closer, eyes roving the smaller boy for hints as to why Roland had been so important that Regina had foregone seeing Henry in favor of bringing Roland in.

"He needs a family, Henry. He needs mothers, and a brother."

"He needs us," Henry concluded. "You went out and got him so he'd be part of our family."

"Yes, I did. I promised his father that I would, and I always repay my debts."

Henry nodded, and she wondered if he would simply accept this new presence in their life. Things were changing quickly, but children were highly adaptable. She hoped the transition from only child to older brother would give him no trouble. Her worries were allayed moments later when Henry took Roland by the hand and practically dragged the littler boy towards Emma. She followed behind, noting that Roland seemed perkier with Henry nearby.

Henry crashed to a halt at Emma's feet; the blonde looked up from the scroll she had been reading and cocked an eyebrow.

"This is Roland," Henry introduced, "my new brother."

Emma's gaze flickered from Henry, to Roland, and finally to Regina. "Yeah?"

She nodded curtly. "I promised Robin."

Emma set the scroll aside and knelt next to the child. "Is this what you want?"

He shook his head and murmured almost silently, "I wan' papa."

"If you can't have that?"

Tears spilled down his cheeks. Emma pulled the boy into her arms and rubbed small circles against his back. This was, she thought, a second chance. She could be for this boy what she hadn't been able to be for Henry. As Roland curled into Emma's arms, Henry watched on with an unreadable expression. Regina crossed to Henry's side and pulled him into a hug. He accepted the distraction, but his mien didn't change.


	2. Chapter 2

Henry didn't like the throne. He shifted around, unable to find a spot that wasn't hard and uncomfortable. Maybe he could ask for a cushion, he thought, but Emma would probably say no. She'd tell him that using a pillow would make him look weak, or that power wasn't supposed to be easy to wield. He glanced at his blonde mother and ignored the people lined up before him. He was supposed to be listening to them and choosing a council to help him rule, but he couldn't drag his eyes away from Emma kneeling next to Roland.

The littler boy was grinning as Emma tickled his stomach. Those were his stomach tickles, he thought. He knew reacting this way was petty and beneath him, but Roland was stealing the childhood he never got. Emma thrust him onto the throne, which he didn't even want, and then adopted a new son to love more than him.

"My prince?"

Henry dragged his attention back to the moment. "Yes?"

"Have you made a decision?"

Regina set a hand on his shoulder. "He must deliberate. This is a very important decision, after all, and we want to set an example of thoughtfulness and careful choice. We will send messages to the men and women he chooses to have on his council."

As the people shuffled about, most deciding to leave rather than talk to him or plead their cases further, Henry glanced back at Regina. "Thank you."

"I know listening can be difficult, but-"

"I know," he interrupted. "I'll do better next time. I just…"

She waited patiently for him to finish, but he never bothered. His eyes drifted back to Emma, leading Regina to the proper conclusions. Her hand on his shoulder tightened until his gaze was once again refocused on her. Bending lower, she brushed the hair from his forehead and placed a small kiss on the bared skin.

"She cares for you, Henry."

"Who do you think I should choose?"

Though she recognized that silence would likely breed resentment in him, she allowed his shift in the conversation without comment. She would address the issue later with Emma and answer his question now.

"I believe the wisest option would be a mixture."

"I didn't really hear what any of them said."

"What they said is of little importance. As a ruler, you must not listen to what a person says, but what a person means. They will say whatever it is they think you wish to hear."

She wished he could stay a child a little longer, but there was no way to postpone any of the events that had led to this moment. If she wanted him to survive past childhood, she'd need to protect him anyway she could – at the best way she could do that in this moment was teaching him politesse and politics. As a child, she'd become very capable of using words to get what she wanted, and she hoped she still had time to teach Henry before he offended the wrong person.

"This is too hard." He rubbed at his eyes. "I never wanted this."

"Henry, when your mother first approached me, do you think I wanted to marry her?"

He shrugged. "I dunno…"

"You know that I was forced into the marriage so that I could be your mother."

"But-"

"I was angry when it happened. Furious, really. I had plans for my life, none of which included your mother." His lips twitched down, so she tucked her fingers under his chin and made him continue looking at her. "My point, dear, is that we are adaptable creatures. While this wasn't what I wanted, I came to realize that this was my life. I could either spend my energy feeling spiteful, or I could work with the hand I had been dealt. I cannot imagine a life without either of you. This life was thrust upon me, but I love it – just as I love you."

He sighed. "A mixture of people will be best. I think I want Lady Kathryn, Lord Glass, Graham, and Gram."

"Those are wise choices." She didn't bother telling him that none of those people had come to ask for a position on his council. They would no doubt accept if he asked them, and if current trends were anything to go by, those who didn't wish for power were the best ones to hold power. Besides, she thought, the named persons covered a vast portion of the kingdom, including titled parties, peasants, and animals.

"I don't know about that, but I figure I might as well have people I think are trustworthy, right?" He tried to smile, but the weight of his new position was already pressing down on his shoulders. The coronation was scheduled for a fortnight later, but already the crown was crushing him.

"I think I can deal with the rest of your duties for the evening." She gave him a small shove in Emma's direction. "Go and play, Henry. The throne will still be here when you're done."

"She doesn't want to play with me…"

"Go," she repeated.

He sighed softly and walked towards his other mother. The blonde looked up from her current task, tweaking Roland's nose, and smiled broadly. When Henry was close enough, she tugged him into her lap and laughed as he struggled to get away. Henry's depressed demeanor melted away, and Regina felt relief trickling through her. With that problem temporarily mended, she turned her mind to Henry's choice in council members. She penned four invitations, called for a servant, and instructed the bowing man to distribute them as soon as possible.

"He'll do."

She flinched and twisted – the Wizard had snuck up behind her soundlessly. His mouth twisted around, and mirth filled his gaze as he enjoyed that he had managed to startle her. Determined to never let him do such a thing to her again, she hardened her gaze.

"I'm glad you find the result of your meddling pleasing."

He crept closer. "You should be grateful for my meddling. I may never meddle again."

"If only we were so lucky."

"I'll remember that." He smirked. "You will, too, when you happen upon the future I've foreseen."

"What do you mean, Wizard?" She kept herself calm, just in case he was simply trying to infuriate and frustrate her.

"I would keep my eyes to the east. There is, after all, no such thing as peace." He watched the playing children. "Innocence is so alluring, isn't it? There one moment, and then poof – gone the next."

"Are you threatening the prince?"

The Wizard stepped back towards the shadows. "It's too bad we all cannot remain children forever. There is a drop of darkness in all of us, the stain of old age and bad decisions. How long, do you think, Henry will remain pure?"

"Be gone," she commanded. Even when he was gone, she couldn't shake the ill feeling in her gut, or calm the hairs bristling on her neck.

0-0-0

"Have you been avoiding me?"

Mulan didn't look up from her task. She slid the sharpening stone along her sword and hoped that the heat in her cheeks didn't translate into a visible blush. The very sound of the delicate woman's voice was enough to cause a stir in her stomach.

"I've been busy, my lady."

"Busy?" Aurora set her hand on Mulan's, forcing the warrior to pause. "I understand you've been out on missions for several months, but you've been home for a week and have yet to seek me out."

"We're different people now. I didn't want to presume our friendship-"

"You presume nothing. We have much to talk about, I'm sure. So take the afternoon, dear friend, and speak with me."

Knowing this was a bad decision, Mulan sheathed her blade and stood. The moment she was face to face with Aurora, she realized this wasn't merely bad – it was potential catastrophic. Her feelings, which she had pushed aside in favor of Aurora's safety, were alive, well, and thriving. As her breath caught in her throat, she struggled to find something appropriate to say – anything that wasn't a confession of her undying love would do, she thought, but no words sprang to her tongue's aid.

She allowed Aurora to lead her to a rock garden where they sat together; Aurora took her hands, and her heart began to thud. This was how it had always been – Aurora was sweet to her, weaving a noose around her neck with small smiles and kind eyes.

"Tell me of your travels."

She spoke haltingly, aware that she didn't possess the same grace of speech that her companion had in spades. No matter how clumsily she phrased her tale, Aurora watched her carefully and responded in all the right ways.

"You fought the Dark Knight?"

"Yes." Mulan wished she could tell Aurora of her victory. "I lost."

"That's amazing." Aurora sighed. "I feel as though I spend my life asleep, while you are out in the world experiencing everything."

As much as the topic pained her, Mulan asked, "And how is Philip? He treats you well, I trust."

"He's a good man," she said, though the hesitation in her voice drew Mulan's curiosity.

"Has he hurt you?"

"He's cold. He has the ability to hurt me, but he would have to care. Instead, he barely notices I exist. It's as though his very soul has been sucked away."

"Are you unhappy?" Mulan knew that attacking the man would be foolhardy, and that even her position in Shan Yu's forces would not save her from the consequences of her actions – but the thought of her dearest friend needing rescue made her mind whirl with possibilities.

"I keep myself occupied." Aurora shook her head. "But stories of my life are of little interest to anyone. I wish to know more of the Dark Knight."

"She's honorable and strong."

"It's too bad our forces are gathering against her."

"Aurora…" Mulan agreed, but she was aware that there were often pairs of ears lingering about, all of which were directly linked to loose tongues. "Shan Yu will do as he sees fit."

"You fought the Knight. You've seen the land and its people." Aurora set a hand on her wrist. "Do you see fit?"

"I see fit to protect those I love." This was as close as she'd dare come to admitting her feelings. For a second, she thought she saw understanding flickering in the other woman's eyes. "I'll do what I'm ordered if that means my home is safe."

"Will we ever be safe?" Aurora stared up into the sky, digging her toe into the sand and dragging it in small circles. "When I was younger, I never wanted to wake up in the morning. I would beg my parents for five more minutes of being asleep. Every five minutes, I would ask for five more. There were days I slept until noon because I claimed that I would be much more awake and functioning with the extra time."

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

"Eventually I would get up, groggier than I would have been had I woken when I was first roused. We fight for peace, claiming that we need to fight just one more battle. There is but one more war and then we will be safe. Five more minutes. I simply wonder when we will be sick of sleeping – when we will realize that feeling lively is simply a matter of getting out of bed."

"Perhaps all we need is a wake-up call."

Aurora leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "I have always loved how we understand one another."

As Aurora walked away, Mulan wondered what that had been about – she wondered if she had agreed to something. What Aurora mistook for understanding was a struggle to comprehend. She pulled her sword out and fell into a meditative silence as she resumed sharpening its edge. Keeping Aurora safe would be so much simpler, she thought, if the other woman would just make sense.


	3. Chapter 3

"I hope you're aware of what you're doing."

Regina undressed slowly, taking the time to properly fold her attire as she went. As usual, Emma watched her with keen interest, which was the secondary reason for this particular routine. Emma was predictable, Regina thought, in all the right ways. With the right stimulus, she could make Emma do almost anything – short, of course, of hurting Henry. This evening, she desired Emma's touch, and so she revealed her flesh piece by piece, all the while standing far enough away that Emma couldn't touch her. This was akin to urging a dog on during a hunt, but withholding its prey. The dog's excitement grew with every moment it was kept from its target.

"What do you mean?"

Emma enjoyed the show with a small smirk. She had softened considerably over the past few weeks and though most changes were irritating and a sign of weakness, she had really come to appreciate the depth of her feelings for Regina. For so long she'd thought herself heartless – and now, with her newfound capacity for love, she realized how much heart she actually had. Every ounce of that heart was devoted to her wife and child, which was a relief. When Henry had initially mentioned that her heart would thaw, she had been afraid that meant she'd be a bleeding heart with too much compassion and an inability to do what was necessary.

"Your open affection towards Roland," Regina responded. Her dress slipped down to the stone floor. "Henry sees as well as I do. He notices these things, and he's a sensitive boy."

Emma licked her lips. The flickering candles scattered light across Regina's body, and Emma let her eyes feast. Perhaps it was fate, she thought, that initially brought them together. That was unsettling to her, as she preferred to think that she made her own destiny. Other people had told her during the entirety of her life who she was and what she could feel, and now she wanted complete control of both those things. She couldn't get angry at fate, though, because even if it had meddled and forced Regina into her life, she was too grateful to have the brunette around. She liked to think that she would have chosen Regina anyway. The lithe woman was beautiful, sensual, and sweet – a combination which drew Emma in like a sailor to a Siren.

The mention of Henry brought the heady, sexual thoughts racing through her mind to a crashing halt. Her lips twitched, but she otherwise masked her distaste at the mention of their son behind a stoic expression. This was hardly an effective method of foreplay, she wanted to complain. She took a deep breath, held it for a few moments, and then exhaled through her nose.

"What do you mean? I'm not doing anything other than trying to be there for the kid. He just lost his father."

"And Henry just gained his mother – yet where are her attentions?"

Emma closed her eyes. "On another kid."

"Exactly. My dear, you may dole out your affections however you deem fit, but your son feels neglected." Regina strolled closer, her fingers curling under Emma's chin. "I don't bring it up so that you'll stop being kind to Roland, but rather so that you'll start showing the same attention to Henry."

"You should have warned me," Emma teased, tilting her head up as Regina's fingers tugged on her.

"About?"

"You never told me that you'd always be right. It's getting a little tiresome being wrong so often." Emma waited until Regina eased into bed beside her before running her fingers along Regina's stomach. She cupped Regina's left breast. "I'm fairly certain I know how I want to dole out my affection right now."

Regina rolled her eyes, though she was inwardly delighted that she could capture Emma's desire so entirely. "You have a one track mind."

"If it's a good track, why change it?"

Emma descended upon Regina, touching their lips together gently at first. This was the first time they had been together in a while, she thought, and she never wanted to go so long without the taste of Regina upon her lips. Regina allowed her to set the pace, so she took her time and placed feather-light kisses along the dark haired woman's cheeks, nose, and chin. She bit down on Regina's jawline, drawing Regina's eyes to hers – and for a moment she felt truly connected with the other woman.

"I love you, you know that, right?" Emma smoothed a hand along Regina's cheek. She was rewarded by Regina's honest smile, which prompted her to resume kissing and suckling along Regina's neck and collarbone. She puffed gusts of warm breath over a dusky nipple before coaxing the nub to hardness with her tongue. Regina arched up, her breaths puffing in and out a little faster than before.

"I know," she managed to say as she lifted a hand and settled it on Emma's head. Blonde hair tangled between her fingers. "I love you, too."

"Good."

Emma nibbled and soaked in every tiny moan she earned. This was the life – maybe not the one she'd always been told she'd have, but it was certainly the only one she wanted now. Things were finally working out in her favor – and she hadn't even had to kill her mother for any of it. Such thoughts were hardly beneficial to her current activity, though, so she pushed them from her mind and concentrated only on the beautiful woman writhing underneath her.

By the time Emma settled her mouth on Regina's clit, Regina was tugging painfully on her hair, the message implied fairly clear: get on with it. Emma wanted to take her time, however, and was used to pain, so Regina's rather intense scalp massage did little to urge her forward. She moved at exactly the pace she wanted and took every tug as a sign that she was driving Regina crazy. One finger sidled inside of her partner, followed closely by a second. She pumped with the same achingly slow rhythm until Regina could take it no longer and began rolling her hips to meet, and hopefully hasten, Emma's thrusts.

Hours later, when the candles had all but sputtered out, Emma nestled her nose against Regina's throat. Regina settled her arms around Emma's naked shoulders and held the blonde closer. Though the room was warm due to the rapidly heating weather, neither woman cared too much. Once they fell asleep, Emma was sure they'd roll to opposite sides of the bed so as to cool off and not drown one another in sweat.

"You're right."

"Of course I am," Regina replied. "About what are we speaking?"

"Henry and Roland. I ought to do something with Henry, and then something with both of them. I guess I did sorta see Roland as a second shot at doing it right, y'know? But that doesn't mean I was giving up on Henry."

"It's not me you have to convince. If it were, your job would be done." Regina stroked her hair and stared up at the ceiling. "He'll come around. This is simply a lot to take in right now. He was an heir just over a week ago, and suddenly about to have his coronation in a few days. His grandmother is gone, his grandfather is dead, and his father is mysteriously missing once again."

Emma flushed. She'd asked the Wizard about Baelfire, but he'd been exceedingly vague in his answer. To the best of Emma's knowledge, he was locked up somewhere accessible to on the Wizard. He had nearly killed Regina, or so she heard it, so she wasn't too devastated to find out that he was conveniently resting up in a location she couldn't find. Though she wanted closure with him, and to truly understand what had happened all those years ago, there was an element of stress removed from her life by his absence.

"Things around here have definitely shifted."

"The constant for Henry has always been you. You may not have been particularly loving towards him when he was young, but you have always been there. What he needs right now, if we want him to succeed, is to know that you're still there."

Emma nodded. "I'll talk to him."

"That's all I can ask." Regina kissed her temple and closed her eyes. "Now go to your side of the bed so that I don't die of a heat stroke while I sleep."

0-0-0

Henry poked at his breakfast in the hopes that it would somehow magically enter his stomach without his having to taste any of the food or chew and swallow. His wish went unanswered, so he eventually dug a spoon in, but only because Emma was watching him. She would no doubt complain if he skipped a meal, or didn't eat as much as she wanted him to. At least then she'd notice him, he thought. The anger passed quickly through him. Kings, he reminded himself, had level heads and calm tempers. He'd make Emma proud of him, one way or another.

Emma rolled a roll at him, catching his attention more fully. "Hey, kid. Want to go riding today?"

His eyebrows rocketed up his forehead. "But I have meetings…"

"I would be glad to attend those in your stead," Regina offered. "As long as you ask nicely."

"Regina, would you please go to my meetings for me?" Henry's expression lightened. She hadn't seen his smile so natural and genuine in too long.

"Of course, dear."

"Can we go to Themis Falls?" He clasped his hands in front of him. "You always promised to take me out beyond the walls, and I've never been, except when you took me to see..." He trailed off, his eyes darting to Roland. The younger boy was mechanically eating his breakfast and seemed oblivious to the conversation.

"I guess it is hot enough to go swimming." Emma grinned at him. "And if you're truly brave, little king, you'll jump off the falls."

He tilted his head up, his pride sorely wounded by her skepticism. "I'll jump twice."

"We'll see when we get there. It's twenty feet up."

He shoveled his meal rapidly into his mouth. "Did you do it when you were a kid?"

She nodded. "All the kids did. The butcher's daughter fainted, and I had to fish her out from the bottom. But you're made of sterner stuff, right?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm your son." He shot her a vaguely disdainful look, as if her question were beneath him. He ought to hold onto that expression, she thought, as it would come in handy once he was truly king.

"I'll get a basket prepared so that we can have lunch out by the water."

"This is so good," he enthused. He scrambled to his feet as soon as his bowl was empty and darted around the table to hug Emma tightly. Once that was completed, he remembered his status and straightened his tunic as if he hadn't just gotten excited. With his posture stiff and stately, he marched to the hallway, where he brandished an imaginary cape and disappeared towards his rooms.

"Roland?"

The little waif of a boy met Emma's gaze. "Yes?"

"Will you be okay here with Regina today?" The only answer was yes, but she preferred giving him the illusion of options. He said very little, but she felt a connection with him. His parents had been ripped from him; she had been thrown away by hers, but the end result was very similar. If he felt like she did, he probably felt like he had no control over his life, and she wanted to provide that for him.

He nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"I'm Emma," she corrected. "You're family now, kid, so you can even call me mom if you're comfortable."

"Emma," he repeated. His eyes drifted to Regina. "Regina?"

Regina smiled down at him. "And you are Roland. Spending the day with me won't be so bad – you'll see. I'll make sure there's plenty to keep you occupied."

A shy smile tugged at his lips before he remembered that he shouldn't be happy when his poppa just died.


	4. Chapter 4

Henry swung his leg over the saddle and lifted his face to the sky. For once in his life, he was going to spend some blissful, one-on-one time with his mother. He'd only been dreaming about this since he was born – and now it was finally coming true. Emma was saddling her mount beside him, and together they were going to ride off to spend the day getting to know each other. This was even better than the small conversations they'd had before the coup. He smiled and soaked in the sunshine until Emma had finished her tasks; she cinched the saddle tight, secured their picnic basket, and eased onto the horse with more finesse than he could ever hope to possess.

"Ready to go?" Emma patted her horse's neck. If she were completely honest with herself, she was a bit nervous about spending quality time with Henry. She didn't know much about him, and he didn't know much about her. This was supposed to rectify that, but her nerves jangled nonetheless. This was worse than riding into battle; in battle, she knew what was expected of her, and what she needed to do to stay alive. This afternoon, she had no preparation whatsoever.

"Yeah!" He dug his heels into the horse's sides, spurring the patient creature forward. As soon as they were out of the castle boundaries, he pushed forward into a gallop. Emma smirked and tailed after him. Her horse was more experienced and quicker, but she let him think he was faster.

He crowed loudly as they thundered across a prairie and into the woods. He had no idea how long the ride was to Themis Falls, but he was determined to enjoy every moment of freedom he got. The wind dragging tears from his eyes made him feel like he was flying. Sitting on a horse was ten hundred times better than sitting on a throne, he thought. He leaned lower, willing his horse to move just that little bit faster.

"Careful, Henry," Emma yelled, but her voice got whipped away by the wind. There was a ditch upcoming, but he didn't have the experience to jump it. He had gotten a bit too far ahead, as well, so she couldn't even head him off before he reached that point. She hollered louder, "Henry!"

He dodged a low hanging tree branch, laughter bubbling up and out of his belly. His horse leapt up into the air the next moment, though, and he grabbed its mane and held on as tightly as he could. He could feel his body slipping from the saddle, and when the horse landed back on the ground, he tumbled into the dirty. A sharp pain shot up his arms as he braced himself, tucked, and rolled. The horse thundered off but circled obediently back as soon as it realized it had no rider.

Emma made the jump with ease and jerked her mount to a halt. She nearly tumbled off in her hurry to get him into her arms. She tapped his cheeks gently until his eyes lolled open.

"That was – interesting." He blinked until his eyes focused once more. "Hurt."

She dusted him off and stood as soon as she was sure he was only stunned, rather than mortally wounded. He wished she had hugged him just a bit longer, but he logged it away that she actually showed how much she cared for him when he got injured. He knocked his hands against his breeches, wincing as he realized there were several little cuts along his palms.

"You have to watch out. The world isn't as safe as the castle."

"Like the castle was all that safe."

"There were always people watching you, Henry. Your safety came at the cost of several lives." Emma did her best not to think about the men she'd lost to Snow's temper when Snow had thought they weren't doing enough to ensure the heir's health and survival. "Out here, you have me and you have yourself. So take care because I won't always be around."

She'd always be there for Roland, he thought darkly. The pain was making him grouchy – but she set a hand on his shoulder and his temper cooled. The important thing was that she was there for him right that moment, and for the next several hours, too. He shook his arms out and clambered back up on his horse. Emma didn't say anything as she remounted, but she was proud of his resilience. This was her son, she thought, and he was definitely someone to be proud of. Despite his upbringing, or in spite of it, he had grown into a patient, gentle soul.

"How much farther?"

She pointed through the trees. "About ten minutes in that direction, if we take it slow and safe."

He turned his head so she couldn't see his face and then rolled his eyes.

0-0-0

Regina lounged on the throne, her eyes on the boy who played next to her, but her attention focused on those speaking. Roland marched a small cornhusk doll around the floor, his posture slouching. This was boring for him, she realized, but she had to attend to these matters before she found something more entertaining for them to do.

"What will we do about food?" Gram tapped her foot against the ground, impatient with how slowly politics went. She had grown up and grown old around the system, but it never failed to surprise her with how little actually got done in an afternoon. In the same amount of time, she could have hunted down, killed, and skinned a deer. Moreover, she would be half finished with salting the meat. While they bickered about who was to do what and how, actual work wasn't getting done.

"I understand that a good many workers were killed or incapacitated. This is highly regrettable, but there is nothing we can do now to save those lives and limbs." Regina wished she had a bit more compassion because, judging from the stricken faces of Henry's chosen council, she had spoken a bit too callously. "What I mean to say is that our plans will have to be aimed at future efforts, rather than reparations. There will be a time for that later, but we need to tend to immediate problems to make sure we have a homeland-"

"I agree," Kathryn interrupted. Regina tried not to look too grateful. "Are there any able bodied soldiers available to tend the fields?"

"That is a possibility."

"My wolves will bring in game." Graham, who hadn't said a word until that moment, used a firm tone that drew attention down to him. "It's not vegetables or grains, but it's something."

"And in return?"

"Nothing," he responded gruffly. "They have fought for this land as much as you have. Without human prosperity, they'll once again be hunted."

"I would never allow that."

"They're willing to work. Are you?"

Regina fell silent, eyes drifting once more back to Roland. She had never considered what her role would be in the new order of things. She was Henry's caretaker, but she could be so much more. When she looked at Graham again, her resolve had firmed. "I am."

"Good. Is this meeting over yet?" Gram cocked an eyebrow. Though Regina hadn't known her long, she could tell that Ruby's death had had an irreparable impact on the older woman. Gram was harder, she noted, and less patient with everyone but Emma.

"I have news," Lord Glass stated. Regina found him vaguely reprehensible, but she had to admit his knowledge of the realm and its neighbors was second only to the Wizard's. Rumor was that he used mirrors to spy upon his enemies, but Regina wasn't so sure.

"Out with it."

He sat a little straighter, preening under their attention. "Forces are gathering. Shan Yu has acquired Midas's forces, which we knew previously, but he's also amassing peasants through fear and violence. They won't be good soldiers, but they will be numerous."

Regina maintained a perfectly calm demeanor. "How do you know they'll march on us? They had ample chance during our revolution, yet they did nothing."

"Simple logistics. He hasn't had to lift a finger as we slaughtered each other. Now all he needs to do is clean up."

"We won't be that easy to take down." Gram reached for the crossbow she kept strapped to her back. "He's got another thing coming."

"For now, let's get our agricultural problems seen to. We may never do battle with Shan Yu, but we will have to face a long winter, with or without crops."

0-0-0

"This is amazing!" Henry stood at the top of the falls and listened to the roar of the gushing water. He had been brave enough at first to glance over the edge, but his stomach had blanched at the height. Before the end of the afternoon, though, he was going to make that jump. Then Emma would be proud of him.

"It's alright. I really gotta get you out to see more stuff. This is your kingdom, Henry, and there's more here than you could ever learn from your tutors and a map." Emma kicked her boots off and stripped off her more delicate equipment. With a whooping cry, she ran to the edge of the waterfall and threw herself off. Henry scrambled forward to watch her plummet the twenty feet to the water.

He could do it, he thought. Repeating that phrase over and over again in his mind, he mimicked her in removing his shoes and in screeching loudly as he raced toward the cliff. Clenching his eyes shut and plugging his nose, he tumbled over. Unsure of how to orient himself for the fall, he landed butt-first into the water. Waterlogged, he pawed his way to the surface and sucked in a large breath of air.

"Good job, kid."

He perked up at her praise. "I could probably do it better."

"Next time try to keep your feet underneath you. Hurts less that way."

He nodded. "I meant to do it this way."

"Sure." She floated through the water on her back – a task that had taken her too many weeks to learn when she was younger. She'd always been too muscular, she thought, and mostly just sank when she went swimming. She was glad to see that her skills hadn't gotten rusty after years of disuse. "Glad to see that you can swim."

He laughed. "You let me jump not knowing if I could swim?"

"Gram threw me in a horse trough when I was younger. You learn pretty quickly when it's swim or drown."

Kicking his feet, he made his way to dry land and pulled himself out. He shook his head, splattering water everywhere. He clambered back to the top, determined to jump the right way this time. Once at the peak, he peered down at her.

"Ma! Watch me! I'm gonna do it!"

She shielded her eyes against the sun. "Go for it, kid."

"You're watching, right?"

"Yup."

"Good!"

He took a flying leap, held his body straight, and splashed down with much less pain this time. When he surfaced, Emma splashed water at him. "That was great, kid. You're a natural."

He spat out a mouthful of water. "Why do you like him more than me?"

"Who?"

"Him." Henry treaded water, eyes never leaving Emma's face. He had done something right, so he deserved an answer, at least from his perspective. "Roland."

"I don't," Emma responded quickly. Her eyes skittered away as she thought things through – did she like Roland more? She certainly had an easier time connecting with the littler boy.

His heart sank as he read her expression as confusion. Things were just as he feared: Emma loved a stranger more than she loved him. Maybe he was too nice, he considered. Maybe she would love him more if he were more like she was. She was proud when he jumped the cliff like she did. It stood to reason, he determined, that she would be even prouder after he acted more like her.


	5. Chapter 5

"Have you decided what to do yet?"

Emma slashed horizontally at a practice dummy and completed an entire pattern before answering in order to buy herself a little time. She stood panting and wiping at her sweat until Regina asked again. With a deep sigh, she sheathed her blade and shrugged.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Make a decision."

"It's Henry's decision to make now."

"He's waiting for you." Regina grabbed a cloth and tossed it at her reluctant wife. Emma caught it and dragged it over her face. Regina recognized every small attempt at stalling and finally had enough. "Emma, we need to look at this realistically."

"We couldn't kill her before, and we can't kill her now."

"I realize that her status as your mother makes it difficult-"

"She's not my mother. She may be the woman who birthed me, but-"

"Save your theatrics," Regina cut back in. She'd heard all of this before and simply wasn't interested. When Emma came up with something new and startling, she'd be willing to listen again. So far, though, Emma's complaints were repetitive. "One definition of mother is the woman who birthed you, so yes, I refer to her as your mother. Like it or not, that makes this decision difficult on you."

Summer was truly setting in, Emma noted. The air was thick, hot, and sticky, and Emma enjoyed the heat for all it made her thoughts and movement sluggish. She pawed the sweat away from the back of her neck, once again trying to buy herself a little time, and then tossed the cloth over her shoulder. Regina folded her arms over her chest and cocked an eyebrow.

"Look, I just – if I say 'Yeah, we need to kill her,' then Henry's rule starts in blood, just like we didn't want to happen. If I say 'No, don't do it,' then we've got a tragedy waiting to happen in our dungeons. As long as she lives, we cannot rest easy. Yet we can't kill her – so what do we do?"

"I don't know, but I'm here to help you work it out." Regina took Emma's hands, ignoring how warm they were, and squeezed. "If you're confused, imagine how Henry is feeling."

"He seemed pretty at ease yesterday."

"Yesterday he was with his mother on a miniature break from his responsibilities. Of course he was at ease."

Emma withdrew her hands from Regina's grip and sighed. "Fine. I promise I'll think about it."

"You will have something to tell Henry by the time he holds counsel tomorrow evening."

"You're a little bossy now that you've been ruler for a day." Emma smirked. She invaded Regina's personal space, kissing her cheek and nudging her gently.

"And you're a little sweaty now that you've been exercising in the hot sun for an hour." Regina drew back, pinched her nose, and rolled her eyes. "Excuse me if I don't kiss you."

"You'll change your tune once I've bathed."

"We'll see how you smell," Regina teased.

0-0-0

Snow paced her cell – she had long ago foregone the practice of keeping track of the days, as her imprisonment seemed endless. No matter, she thought, as she would sooner or later break free and have her revenge. Time was of no importance. She would wait as long as she needed until the opportunity presented itself. Until then, though, there was very little to occupy her constantly whirring mind.

"Against the wall, prisoner. You have a visitor."

At the beginning, she had tried to bribe, threaten, and wheedle with the guard, but every attempt had ended in failure. Whenever his voice shattered the deafening silence of her isolation, she ignored it. This time, however, she was curious enough to obey. She backed away and waited patiently as the large metal key clattered into the lock. The door swung out, and her daughter walked in.

"Why, Knight, you've come to call, have you? It took you long enough."

Emma bristled at Snow's condescending tone. "The realm has been in turmoil. I apologize if my responsibilities have interfered with your social calendar."

"Turmoil?" Snow snorted. "You stage a violent coup, and then are surprised by the fall out. The realm worked under my rule, Knight, and now it is a rudderless ship. You lack direction, and the realm is suffering for it."

Emma wanted to react violently – and perhaps if she were still the same woman she'd been a year prior, she would have. There was something satisfying to her about punching her problems to pieces; the visceral feeling of bones crunching under her might made her confident. Because she wasn't in touch with her emotions, or aware of how to communicate them, there was a level of disgust associated with solving problems with words. Still, Snow wanted her to attack, so she forced herself to remain still, her hands curled into tight fists at her side.

"I didn't come here to talk about what happened."

"Then why are you here? Surely you don't wish to discuss the good old times we had together."

"There's nothing like that to speak of. You best watch your town."

"Why? If you were going to kill me, you would have let me die before. Instead, you interfered and I live on. You wouldn't save me, just to formally slaughter me later. Nothing rouses the passions of your subjects quite like an execution. Perhaps your rule will be much shorter than you expected."

"I doubt it."

"I-"

"Shut up," Emma commanded. She moved toward the door – this visit had been a mistake. She had hoped that speaking with her mother would make things easier, but Snow both made her want to strike, and stayed her hand. The woman deserved death, she thought, but for the same reason, needed to live. The contradiction frustrated her to no end. She was no closer to a decision than before. The door slammed shut behind her, and she tried to push thoughts of Snow away for a while.

0-0-0

Henry rolled a ball toward the smaller boy, who picked the toy up gingerly, as if he expected it to bite him. Clapping his hands, Henry called for Roland to throw it back. Roland examined the small object, glanced up at Henry, and then carefully tossed it in Henry's direction. It fell short by several feet, but Henry appreciated the effort.

"You don't play much, do you?"

Roland shrugged but caught the ball when Henry lobbed it at him. It bounced in his grip, though, and hit the ground. Scrambling after it, he murmured over his shoulder, "I do, too."

"Coulda fooled me."

Roland shrugged. "Didn't have a ball afore."

"What did you have?"

"Papa made me a bow'a'arrow." Roland's lips twitched down. He blinked back tears and reminded himself that crying wouldn't do nothing. Papa wanted him to be strong, and so he would. He'd be the strongest.

"Did you learn how to sword fight?"

"No."

"Me, neither, really, but I think it'd be so cool. Emma is really good at it, and I thought maybe I could ask her to teach me."

Roland shrugged again. Swords were, in his opinion, too dangerous. He liked the range a bow gave him. He could shoot at the bad guys from really far away, and the chance he'd get hurt was slimmer. Using a sword meant that he'd have to be right next to whatever he was fighting, and that was just – scary.

"Maybe."

"I'm going to be king soon," Henry confided. He whipped an imaginary sword through the air. If he could use a sword, that meant he was like Emma just a little bit more. She'd pay attention to him, and he'd be a better king if he could protect himself. "I'm going to have all the power in the kingdom. Do you know what you wanna do?"

Roland was aware that being a bandit was not a plausible career choice, especially now that he was the ward of the royal family. Still, he missed the freedom of wandering the woods with a pack of loyal, friendly men and women. Emma and Regina were nice enough, but they just weren't family, and he wasn't sure they'd ever be.

"Dunno."

"You could be pretty much anything – except king. Well, maybe if you married a prince or princess." Henry grabbed the ball from the grass and twirled it on his finger. "Would you want to be king?"

Roland shrugged yet again. "Dunno."

"You don't talk much, y'know that?"

"Yeah."

Before throwing the ball once again, Henry squashed it between his palms. The kid was sticking around, that much was clear, so Henry was doing his best to get to know the littler boy. He just didn't know how much he could do when Roland was reticent. Being king meant he had to deal fairly with all people, but he just didn't know how to deal with Roland just yet.

"Well, you're doing okay, right?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry about your dad."

Roland gritted his teeth. Being cheerful was terribly difficult when others tended to mention his father every so often. For the first time, though, he felt angry rather than sad. He was so tired of how sorry everyone was, and that exhaustion led to the burst of frustration – he lunged at Henry, tackling the soon-to-be-king to the ground. He swung at Henry's head, his grubby hand not forming a very firm fist. The blows he landed were weak and soft.

Hitting someone didn't feel too good, he noted, but now that he had started, he didn't know how to stop. All the rage over losing his father just spilled out in the form of blood spurting from Henry's nose. For a few moments, he straddled Henry, arms spinning wildly. Henry was took the blows at first because he was taken by surprise by the sudden, unprovoked attack.

While he brought his hands up to protect his face, he wondered what Emma would do. Emma was a fighter – so he should fight back. When Roland smacked his nose, and he could feel the blood trickling down his upper lip, he yelled and rolled. Dust flurried around them as he pinned the smaller boy and began to hit. His hands were more securely fisted, and his blows better aimed. Bruises blossomed wherever he hit, and soon Roland was blubbering under him.

Someone grabbed his fist as he reeled back for another onslaught, and he was dragged from his perch. Chest heaving and temper still flaring, he glanced back at the person who had interrupted their battle – Emma glared incredulously down at him.

"I know it's hot out – but what are you doing?"

Henry jerked out of her grip and stumbled back. "He started it."

"I don't care who started it, kid. That was way out of the realms of okay."

"So I shoulda let him beat on me?" Henry's heart thudded loudly in his chest. This wasn't fair – Roland hit him, which started the whole thing. All Henry had done was protect himself, but he was the one who was in trouble. Emma of all people should understand, he thought darkly.

"No. That wasn't okay, either, but you have to be more responsible than that. A king doesn't have fist fights in the dirt, does he?"

"I do, and I'm going to be king." Henry tilted his head up. Emma might be right, he considered, but he still outranked her. The power over his mother had always made him uneasy, but for now he was glad to have something that salved his wounded pride, which hurt worse than his nose.

Emma shook her head and helped Roland up. Roland looked much worse than he did, Henry noticed. He licked his lips and cringed at the copper taste. Next time, Roland wouldn't start anything with him, or else he'd get whupped worse.

"Henry, Regina wants to see you in the stables."

Roland wheezed as he breathed. "I'm sorry."

Henry decided to ignore the apology and instead stomped away.


	6. Chapter 6

The halls of the castle had always been the Wizard's domain, no matter what current ruling royalty actually believed or knew. Kings and Queens were temporary nuisances in his life, and after hundreds of years of cursed existence, he had adopted a rather laissez-faire attitude toward them. They were to be toyed with and teased, but he had yet to meet any ruler worthy of his respect and actual assistance. They may think they owned the castle, but he knew better. He knew every hidden passageway, every cracked stone, and every room inside and out.

The fact that Snow White had hidden his son from him in his own castle grated on his nerves. This was his domain, but that chit had not only gotten one over on him but had done so in a way that made him feel like a fool. How had he never noticed the extra room in the dungeon? He supposed there had been other issues on his mind for the past decade – after searching for his son elsewhere, he had turned his attention to revenge, rather than the idea that Baelfire might be right under his nose.

He melded past gossiping servants, none of whom paid him any mind. He wasn't sure if this was because they ignored him or if he had perfected the art of blending in with his surroundings; either way, he was satisfied. He had no time for insipid chatter – he paused, though, as he caught his title in the murmurings. He had time for some insipid chatter, he amended, if such might be beneficial.

"-has to be gone, right?"

He settled into a shadow nearby and listened carefully, though he wished he'd heard the beginning of their conversation as well. The two men were idling by an open window, neglecting their duties, no doubt. The taller fellow had skittish eyes that darted across the hall and nervously followed anyone who passed by. He swabbed the loose hair across his forehead, but the motion did nothing to stop the hair from falling back into place.

"Nobody has seen him lately," the other responded. His tone, like his posture, was firm and unyielding. "You don't just disappear. He tried to kill the Knight's wife, and now he's mysteriously missing? Doesn't that strike you as odd?"

"The Queen is locked away."

"Yet her practices remain." He lifted his hands. "All I'm saying is that we've removed one despot in favor of another."

Unrest within the walls already, Rumplestiltskin thought. A small amount of glee filled him, twisting his expression from thoughtful to somewhat manic. This could prove to be useful, should the opportunity present itself. He listened a few moments longer before determining that there was nothing else to glean from their inanity. For now, there was nothing to do with his newfound knowledge, so he filed it away as he hurried to his destination. The room he had locked his son in was much nicer than the prison cell Snow had used.

Bae looked up when he entered, but there was no life in his expression. For a moment, Rumplestiltskin wondered if someone had replaced his son with a kicked puppy. The room was well furnished, from the large, comfortable bed to the small dining area in the corner. Despite these lovely accommodations, Bae chose to sit on the stone bench near the window, his chin resting on the sill. Pathetic, Rumple thought. He conjured a loaf of bread and set it on the table.

"Breakfast, Bae."

"No, thank you."

Rumple tittered, trying to keep his temper even and barely managing. "You will eat."

"Why? What's the point?" Bae turned back to the window and sighed. This creature wasn't worthy to be his offspring, Rumple groused. He withdrew a knife from a sheath at his waist and sliced the loaf into several pieces. One of those pieces he tossed at Bae. Bae let it hit his side and then fall to the floor. "I meant what I said. No."

"I refuse to let you waste away-"

"So you want me to live?" Bae stood. Despite his meager appetite, he had maintained his square shoulders and hefty weight. Were this to come down to a physical confrontation, Rumple knew his son outmatched him. Thankfully, Rumple was clever enough to never let that happen. Rather than cower away as he knew Bae wanted him to, he pranced closer, rescued the bread, and pushed it into Bae's hands. "My life is nothing without her."

"You are well past your adolescence," Rumple snapped. "So stop acting like a lovelorn child."

"You don't understand."

Rumple grit his teeth. "How do you think you were conceived?" Instead of waiting for Bae's bumbling response, Rumple continued, "Yet your mother is nowhere to be found, is she?"

Bae's lips trembled as he considered his response. "You killed her?"

"She killed herself." Rumple returned to the table, content that he had Bae's full attention.

Reluctantly, Bae ripped a bite out of his bread and followed. "You never mentioned-"

"There are things you do not tell your child." Malcontent with speaking of the woman who scorned him, he brought the conversation back around. "I have put up with your behavior for long enough. I love you, Bae, and you're the only person about whom that is true, but my patience wears thin."

"Did you tell that to her, too? Before she died?"

Rumple's lips split back into a mirthless smile. "The circumstances surrounding her demise were much different than your temper tantrum."

Bae huffed and flinched back as Rumple leaned closer. Rumple's hand descended upon his forearm, but rather than the tirade Bae expected, there was tense silence. Rumple's eyes searched the air over his head until Bae jerked away and broke their connection.

"What was that?"

Any form of frustration that Rumple had been feeling fled. He dug a wedge of cheese from a pouch and set that next to the bread. "Eat both, son. I'll be back later with your dinner."

Before Bae could complain again, Rumple was gone.

0-0-0

Henry watched the knights and soldiers swing their blades with keen interest. Though they'd always treat him gently, as nobody was allowed to harm the future king, he wanted desperately to be a part of their camaraderie. He wanted a sword like theirs. He wanted to learn to fight – to someday save a friend's life from unspeakable danger. Instead, he was sentenced to a life of isolation. First from Emma and now from everyone else.

"Kid, we need to talk." Emma set a hand on his shoulder, prompting Henry to look up at her hopefully. He had been working hard for days now to act like her and attract her attention – and his efforts were seemingly bearing fruit. Perhaps he wouldn't always be as alone as he feared. Still, Emma's tone wasn't quite positive, so his stomach twisted into knots.

"Yeah?" He cleared his throat, just in case she could hear his sudden onset of nerves. "What about?"

Emma guided him away from the practice yards, settling down in the grass under a tree. "I know this is a hard topic to talk about, but we need to decide what to do with Snow."

Much of Henry's anxiety melted away; this wasn't about him, he thought with great relief. "She's locked up. What more is there to say?"

"We can't just leave her there," Emma said, her eyes tracking Henry's face. He wouldn't make eye contact with her, but she was undeterred. "You know she'd just break free."

"We could execute her," he stated simply, finally allowing their eyes to meet. Though this was hardly the way he wants to deal with his grandmother, the solution was simple. Not only that, but he figured that's how Emma would want to handle things, too. "Nobody will mind."

"I'll mind," Emma admitted.

His eyebrows inched up his forehead. Disbelief made his voice very small as he responded. "She was nothing but mean to you. She even had me being mean to you sometimes."

"It's that darn heart you were so convinced I have. Makes these decisions a lot harder."

Henry plucked a strand of grass and tore it into tiny pieces. Things were confusing now – he didn't really know what Emma valued anymore. She'd been the same person for his whole life, but then after Regina and the curse, Emma was someone entirely different. She waited patiently for him to speak again, aware that he was working through some difficult thoughts.

"Maybe we could have a tribunal – like my council or something. We could have both sides of the story, and then people could decide what we do with her. It's kinda dumb, I know, but-"

"Kid, that's just fine. It may be time consuming, though."

"And we may not like what they decide."

Emma couldn't imagine any cast of people forgiving the former sovereign for the large list of offenses, but she didn't say anything to disabuse him of the notion. This was fair, she thought, and would hopefully stave off some of the darkness she could see threatening to overtake her son. For one reason or another, he was acting in a peculiar fashion, and she wanted that to stop.

"Speaking of decisions we don't like, have you apologized to Roland yet?"

Henry frowned deeply. "He started it."

"And you definitely finished it. One thing I learned from Snow is that sometimes you're right, and you know you're right, but you have to pretend like you were wrong so the world can keep spinning." Emma chuckled. "She was never wrong, but damn if she also was never right."

"So I need to say I'm sorry even if I don't mean it?"

"I want you to mean it. He's just a little boy who lost his father, Henry. You're twice his size. I hope you regret taking advantage of someone tinier than you."

"He shouldn't have hit me."

"That's true, and we've asked him to apologize to you, too. But rather than being mature, you acted like a child."

He was a child, he thought darkly. Every conversation seemed to lead inevitably to the realization that any semblance of a childhood he might have had perished the moment he was born and given into Snow's care. Fun and roughhousing were activities for those of lesser breeding and fewer responsibilities. He'd give it all up in a heartbeat, though, except that Emma and Regina really seemed to want him as king.

He hung his head. "Okay. I'll do it."

"I heard that he likes shooting arrows. Maybe you could show him around the yard tomorrow. I had a couple of small bows crafted, so you both could try your hands at shooting."

He tried to smile but failed. "I'd like a sword."

"Swords attract trouble. The moment you pick one up, you make yourself a target."

"I'll have one as soon as I'm king for real. Why have one at my waist if I don't know how to use it? Then I'm not just a target, I'm a really vulnerable target. They'll come after me, and I won't know how to save myself."

"Fine," she relented. "I'll teach you myself. But you must never practice on anyone without supervision."

He grinned. "This is going to be cool."

"For now, though, you have to play nice with Roland."

"I will," he promised. Being nice was easier when there was a reward dangling in front of him. He stood back up and straightened his posture. "And you have to get a council together for Snow's tribunal."

"I will." She stood next to him and set a hand on his head. They both considered exchanging hugs, but neither moved in the other's direction. Eventually, Emma ruffled Henry's hair and cleared her throat. "Go enjoy the rest of your day."

"Not just yet." The Wizard stepped out from behind the tree, his skin glittering in the sunshine. "I have seen a new prophecy, and I think you'll want to hear it."


	7. Chapter 7

"A new prophecy?" Emma's hand settled atop her sword. There was no reason to threaten the Wizard, but the news he bore likely meant little good for her or her family. They'd just finished an exhausting battle, she wanted to tell him, but she knew her words would have no effect. He'd seen what he'd seen, and her complaints wouldn't suddenly change that.

"Ah yes," Rumple crowed. He danced in front of his impatient audience and lifted one hand to draw their attention. Emma didn't have the patience for his showmanship, but Henry set a hand on her arm and squeezed until she sat still beside him. "The pebble cannot move a mountain – the mountain's snow does freeze the hearts of men. The rising sun brings ill-begotten news, but the moon chases soon after."

Emma stared at him, expecting more, but he tipped his head and disappeared before she could ask anything further of him. There had to be more to his prophecy, she thought, as there was nothing in his words that would help them. Besides, she had already forgotten half of them, and there was no way to decipher what she couldn't remember.

Henry rubbed his chin. "The pebble cannot move a mountain – what do you think that line means?"

"You remember it?"

"Of course." He rolled his eyes. "So what do you think?"

"It just sounds like horse manure he's dreamed up to keep us busy," Emma stated. Her statement didn't feel true, however, and she pursed her lips. "Even if we try to figure it out, we'll just get the wrong answer. I never liked dwelling on prophecies."

"I know. But last time-"

"Last time is irrelevant. We need to focus on the here and now."

"I am," he huffed. "It's important we figure out what he's talking about, so we don't get blindsided."

"Henry-"

"I order you to let me think!"

She fell silent, her eyes roving his bright-red face. He'd just screamed at his mother, he thought, and shame painted his cheeks. His eyes darted to the dirt, but the damage had already been wrought. Those around them had heard his royal order, and he had once again established dominance over his Knight. Wishing that he could take his words back, he turned and tried to think more clearly.

"He mentioned snow. Do you think he meant Snow snow?"

Emma dipped her head deferentially. Looking at the ground was less telling than glaring daggers at her offspring. "I don't know, my king."

That had to be it, he thought. The only thing was that there were no mountains in these areas, so how Snow was going to get out of her jail cell and to some sort of range was beyond his imagination. He twisted back to look at Emma; he wanted badly to apologize, but now that he was acting as though he were in command, he decided he ought to continue. People would follow him if he led, Emma had told him once, but they wouldn't follow him in circles.

0-0-0

"I am surprised you know your letters." Regina bent over Roland's scroll, a pleased smile drifting over her lips. She set a gentle hand on his lower back and kissed his temple. He tensed at her affection, but she refused to back off – he had lost too much, and she couldn't let him fall into some sort of isolation. With that in mind, she tried her hardest to treat him like her own child. "You're a very clever child."

He traced a fingertip over the corner of his parchment. "Thank you."

"And polite, too," she praised. "You may know more than me, little one."

Pleasure drew a rosy hue to his cheeks. He sat a little straighter and pointed a finger down upon his letters. "Papa taught me."

"You miss him?" The question was silly, but she wanted to make no assumptions about his emotional state. She coaxed him into conversation as often as she could, but the topic of his father was a fairly reliable method of making him shut up for several consecutive hours at a time.

"Yes."

This was more than she'd gotten him to say before, so she tread carefully and asked, "Would you like to talk about him?"

"Why?" Roland wiped his eyes and stared at the far wall. He hated crying, even if Papa had said it was okay as long as he stopped sometime and did something. In this case, he figured that he just shouldn't be crying in front of this strange woman, and that was cause enough to dry his eyes.

"It helps us remember those we've lost."

"You lost?"

"My family. They aren't dead, but I'll never see them again."

She pulled him onto her lap and began telling him tales of her childhood, omitting the occasional beating and making up charming memories to cover the holes. He snuggled against her, and for a moment she thought they must look like honest to goodness family members. He looked enough like her that he could pass as her son. She hadn't put much thought into having more children, especially when Queen Snow had been terrorizing the castle, but now she wasn't sure she would be against the idea.

Though having Emma's child would be impossible without magic, Regina allowed herself a small daydream while she wove her tales. Their child would be brash and good and petulant – a true mixture of both their positive and negative attributes. She would have Emma's mop of curly blonde hair, but Regina's dark, inquisitive eyes. She would have the kindness of the Regina before her curse, and that kindness would be tempered by Emma's pragmatism.

"Do you miss them?" Roland stared up at her, and she snapped back into the moment.

Thoughts of children were well and good, she decided, but there was no point in dreaming about something that would never be. She tweaked his nose and nodded. "I think we all miss those parts of our lives that we cannot take with us."

0-0-0

Snow sat in the corner of her cell and traced her finger up and down the stone walls. Though she didn't mark the days, she found some enjoyment in scratching small scenes that depicted the beheading of the traitors who ousted her from her throne. They had killed her consort, and his was the only death that meant much of anything to her. Even if she had won, she would have found a suiting, special punishment for the one whose blade had impaled him.

Thinking dark thoughts didn't help the time go by, she found, but neither did anything else, so she didn't mind sitting and stewing for lack of a better option. There were moments when she questioned herself – perhaps if she hadn't been quite so cold to her Knight… - but those scarce moments were brushed aside; she had done what needed doing, and there was no point in doubting now what couldn't be changed. She instead devoted energy to what hadn't yet been written.

If she got out of this damnable cell, she had a dozen different plans to bring her Knight and the realm back under her thumb. The only commonality in all her plans was that one of the first steps was to kill the one who prompted Emma to think freely in the first place: Regina. That woman would feel the full extent of her wrath, Snow thought as she scratched her thumb nail deeper into the wall.

"Let me see your hands, prisoner."

Every twenty minutes, a guard wandered by and stated the same demand. There were times when she resisted, but all that gained her was a hungry stomach when dinner rolled around and she wasn't served. They treated her like a child, and so she acted like one. She walked to the guard, having found out previously that running toward the cell door was another unacceptable action, stuck her hands out, and smiled up at him through her eyelashes.

"Might I have a fork with my evening meal? Please?" The pleasant words felt strange on her tongue, and from the look on his face, the guard found them strange in his ear. He shook his head and upon finding nothing suspicious in her cell, moved onward. Her hands curled around the bars of the door and she shook with rage. "If I were loose-"

"You would what?"

She silenced abruptly. Had she a weapon, she could take down the guard without a thought. As it were, though, the only things she had besides her fist were her clothing, and a straw mattress in the corner. The speaker, though, didn't sound like her guard. There was an odd trill to this voice that was achingly familiar. She released her hold on the bars and folded her arms over her chest.

"You can stop hiding in shadows, Wizard."

He tittered and came forward, his hands finding a resting spot on the door's locking mechanism. "Imprisonment suits you."

She didn't need his company, but she felt compelled to talk further with the agitating man. "It might suit you as well, if you'd like to try it. This cell offers many comforts found nowhere else in the kingdom. I'm willing to allow you to take my place."

"How kind of you," Rumplestiltskin replied. His finger screeched along the door, forcing her to both cover her ears and wonder how he produced such a shrill noise. "Truly, they'll speak your name in praises for years to come."

"I don't doubt the truth of your words." She didn't add that she felt they would be true for very different reasons. Once she escaped and won back her land, they would come to laud her for getting rid of the interlopers and returning life to normal. "Why are you here?"

"I must admit, you've caught me off guard." He stepped back into the shadows. "At least for a third of an hour."

She rushed at the door, ready to demand answers that weren't cryptic. When she slammed against the bars, the door swung outward. Wary that this might be a trap, she stepped into the hallway slowly, eyes roving the walls for any dangerous weapons that could come swinging down atop her head. After five minutes of careful observation, she realized that time was running out. She'd have moments later to question the Wizard's motivations – for now there was but fifteen minutes until the next guard came by and discovered her empty cell.

With not so much as a last look behind her, she ran.

0-0-0

"I swear," Henry clung to Emma's arm, "the prophecy has something to do with Snow."

"Prophecy?" Regina glanced up and smiled at the sight of the rest of her family returning to their chambers. She was gratified to see that Roland, too, was pleased by the reappearance of Emma and Henry.

"The Wizard is once more spewing useless words."

"He is not." Henry frowned. "I think something bad is going to happen soon, and we should prepare for it."

"By readying troops – not deciphering a cryptic message from a man whose loyalties we don't know."

"You should at least keep an eye on her," he argued. He was the king, and his orders ought to be followed. Still, they were now in private, and Emma was more inclined to be his mother than his Knight. Secretly, he preferred it this way. Being king meant being someone he didn't really like or particularly want to be. He hadn't yet apologized for ordering Emma about earlier, but he planned on doing so as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

"We have guards, Henry."

"Emma is right," Regina cut in. "There is nothing she can do while locked in her cell."

Emma's next response was cut off as a servant rushed in, his face pale and his hands shaking. Emma sent a maid to fetch him a glass of water and then guided him to a seat. At her prompting, he looked up and said, "The Queen has escaped."


	8. Chapter 8

While most other warriors seated around the long oval table had loud opinions they shared every few moments, Mulan chose to sit quietly with her hands balled up against her thighs. There were several men and women who saw no point in invading the land once ruled by Snow White – they had a point, and they were the ones with whom Mulan agreed, yet Mulan said nothing in support. The overwhelming majority hollered, hooted, and stamped for war, especially with such an easy target so nearby.

"Silence." Shan Yu didn't bother raising his voice. His gruff tone was almost too quiet for Mulan to hear, and she was seated directly beside him. Despite his lack of volume, he managed to capture the attention of everyone present. He kept his eyes scanning his muscular entourage, even as he spoke only to her. "What do you think?"

"I think that we have a force large enough to take whatever you deem fit."

He nodded slowly and then reached up to stroke the thin, dark tendrils of his mustache. His dark gaze was impenetrable, but that didn't stop her from trying to guess his thoughts. While his troops were often bloodthirsty, Shan Yu was a strategist whose lust for battle was tempered by his intellect. If a situation were not greatly to his benefit, he would not proceed. She guessed he was weighing the odds and trying to figure out where the pitfalls of this campaign would be. He knew of the Knight's skills, but he also knew that a freshly won kingdom would have conflicted loyalties. Though she hoped he would decide against a war, she predicted that he'd eventually begin assembling troops to begin skirmishing.

"A polite answer," he finally responded. His roving gaze settled on her, and she suddenly felt the full pressure of his presence. His next words contained hints of reproach, as if he were questioning the veracity of her opinion, or perhaps the source. "Your time at court has curbed your tongue."

She dipped her head. "You are our commander. You know what needs to be done. If I thought myself capable of those decisions, I would be leading this men, not you."

This roused a chuckle from him and his suspicion passed. "Very well." He stood, causing all heads in the room to bow as they awaited his verdict. From his stiff posture and clenched fists, she could already tell that he had decided to wage war. She was incredibly glad she'd kept her silence. "Go home. Bring back one head from each family. We fight."

Mulan waited until the crowds had cleared before standing next to him. He paid her little mind until she spoke. "I ask your permission to go to the kingdom and gather information."

The corner of his mouth twisted up into a smirk. "What do we need to know that we don't already?"

"I can find out who isn't loyal to the new regime. I can start unrest to make a weak kingdom weaker. The less risk-"

"Very well," he said, cutting off the rest of her explanation. "Leave in the morning."

0-0-0

As Mulan sat on her bed and packed her belongings, her thoughts were flying to and fro from subject to subject – though she was tacitly ignoring the one thought that would cause her true unrest. She had all but promised Aurora that she would avoid war, yet she was seemingly advocating for more bloodshed. Which was, she thought, a good reason to pack and leave as soon as possible in the hopes that Aurora didn't come to scold her. She could stand a good many things in life, including doing something unsavory, but she didn't think she could live with Aurora thinking so little of her.

She might not have been sure about what Aurora wanted her to do, but she damn well knew what she could do. Allowing war to happen and saying nothing against the practice was a necessary evil. There were two possible options as she saw things: she obeyed Shan Yu and protected Aurora's wellbeing, or she betrayed Shan Yu in the hopes that Emma could win and rescue Aurora before bad things befell the other woman. In either event, Mulan was going to do whatever she needed to.

"How could you?"

Mulan's head shot up. She hadn't heard her door open or close – but Aurora stood before her, brow furrowed and lips downturned. Mulan swallowed hard. Even pouting, Aurora commanded her attention with beauty and grace.

"What do you mean?"

Aurora stomped her foot. "My husband tells me you said nothing during the meeting, save to agree with Shan Yu. Is he wrong?"

"He isn't wrong," Mulan admitted. She braced herself for the inevitable emotional attack. Aurora, however, remained still, her eyes trained on Mulan's face.

"I thought…" She pursed her lips, cleared her throat, and shook her head. "Regardless, you promised me-"

"I promised myself something else." With shaking hands, Mulan crossed to Aurora's side and hesitantly took the other woman's wrists. Hopefully her cold, clammy skin wasn't apparent to Aurora, Mulan thought. "My promise is forever to keep you safe."

Baffled, Aurora cocked her head. "I'm in no duress."

"I'm going to make sure that remains true." Mulan kept her face as stoic as she could. Admitting this was more than she wanted, but she needed to impress upon Aurora the importance of not doing anything foolish. "You must not-"

"Don't tell me what I must and must not do," Aurora snapped. She pulled her arms from Mulan's grasp and folded them over her chest. For a moment, Mulan expected her to stomp her foot as well. However, the storm of Aurora's temper passed as her gaze tracked over Mulan's tense expression. "Tell me why."

"I'm going to-"

"Not why you're going. Why you feel your duty is to keep me safe."

Momentarily flummoxed, Mulan struggled to find something that Aurora would both understand and believe. She stuttered out a few weak explanations, but Aurora's face didn't budge. After the other woman repeated her question, Mulan sighed. "Your life means a good deal to me."

"As yours does to me. Explain yourself."

Trapped, Mulan defaulted to the truth. She took a deep breath, met Aurora's gaze as steadily as she could, and said, "I've loved you a long time, Aurora. I will never know the honor of your kiss, but I can protect you. Your happiness is tantamount to my life."

"I'm safe," Aurora murmured. She stroked Mulan's cheek and settled her palm along the curvature of Mulan's jaw. "No harm will befall me for a good many months."

"Why?"

"I'm pregnant."

Mulan stood silently for a moment as she willed her brain to process that information. She shifted her gaze to the ground – though she knew Aurora was not hers to love, the blow felt visceral. She coiled her hands into fists. "They won't touch you until his child is born."

"I don't want my child to be born into a world that fights over scraps. I want peace. I need it." Aurora stepped closer and lifted Mulan's chin so they were once more eye to eye. "If you want to protect my happiness as well as my life, this is what you must do."

Feeling a bit used but enjoying the proximity, Mulan nodded stiffly. "That's what I'm doing. I didn't say anything during the meeting because I needed to gauge the mood. With so many voices for war, mine would have stuck out. I remained silent because Shan Yu was going to decide to go to war with or without my input. At least now when I go back to the Dark Knight, I go with Shan Yu's full trust."

"If you had said something against war and then offered, he would have suspected you," Aurora stated, her voice getting smaller and smaller. "And I came in here to yell at you."

"I deserved it, my lady." Mulan averted her gaze again. "I went against your wishes."

"Only so that you could obey my wishes."

"Please remain safe while I'm gone. If Shan Yu wins, he can never know why I acted in the fashion I did, or else your life will be forfeit. If the Dark Knight wins, I'll come home to keep you safe once more as soon as I can."

Aurora pulled Mulan against her and pressed their lips together. She tried to fill the kiss with as much good will as she could. She squeezed her eyes closed and wished for Mulan's safety. Please, she thought, let Mulan come home alive and well. When she drew back, she found Mulan's eyes shut and Mulan's lips still parted.

"You've kept me at a distance for so long," Aurora said, "that I was half-certain I'd imagined your feelings for me."

"I…"

"You almost made me doubt my feelings for you. Perhaps someday soon, we will live in a world where we can be together." Aurora didn't want to let go of Mulan's hand, but she knew she had to get back to her bedchambers. "Be safe."

0-0-0

Mulan pushed her horse harder as she thundered through the forest. She was close to the castle and could see its towers in the distance. The nearer she got, the more people she found out and about, milling around and searching the ground. Though her curiosity was piqued, she hurried onward until she reached the castle's inner courtyard. Abandoning her horse with a rather frustrated look stable hand, she continued on toward the throne room.

She found Henry listening to a litany of complaints from several different people. Regina stood just behind him, but Emma was nowhere to be found. Emma could come later, she assured herself. For now, she needed to ingratiate herself with these people and gain there trust. She moved forward, cutting off the current speaker's remarks, and dropped to one knee in front of Henry.

"Perhaps you remember me?" She peered up at him.

He nodded. "You fought my mom."

"I did." She got to her feet and nodded her head in greeting at Regina. "I come as an emissary of Shan Yu. Now that Snow White is gone-"

"You know she's gone?" Henry scrambled to his feet. "How'd you guys find out so fast?"

"What?"

"Henry." Regina set a hand on his shoulder and guided him to sit again. "What he means to say is that Snow White imprisonment has been wrongly cut short. We are currently seeking details about the one who aided in her escape."

"I had no idea." Mulan remembered the people outside and suddenly their grim expressions made sense. "I meant that now that she is no longer in power, Shan Yu would like to create a partnership between our realms."

"We would be glad to talk once this matter is settled." Regina glanced down at Henry; she murmured something in his ear before stepping forward and walking with Mulan toward a far door. "Allow me to show you to some rooms you may use during your stay."

As soon as they were safely ensconced in a private room, Mulan bowed her head and said, "Forgive my intrusion. I wanted to warn you that Shan Yu plans to move against you."

"That doesn't surprise me. He betrayed Snow White, so it stands to reason he'd betray whatever union we sought to make with him."

"I want to help you."

"You'd betray your home?"

"My home is not a place," Mulan responded. "My home is a person. Her safety is the price of my help."

"We can't just go and rescue her from Shan Yu's forces."

"She's safe for now. But we must win." Mulan could almost still feel Aurora's lips on hers. There was hope for them, she thought, but first she needed the Dark Knight to conquer. She dropped once more to the ground and bent her head. "Allow me this honor."

Regina helped Mulan back up. "I'll send Emma along as soon as she comes back from searching for Snow White."


	9. Chapter 9

Snow took her time exiting the castle. Even if there was a fuss about her sudden disappearance, chances were high that nobody would look twice at the woman dressed in servant's clothing. She moved slowly, pretended to clean, and bowed low whenever someone of rank passed by so that she didn't attract undue attention. They would be searching everywhere for the first few days, except right under their own noses. For now, lingering was the safest option available to her. She watched as people hurried around for three days straight, chasing their tails, until finally they decided she was long gone. When the last search party was called in, she left the castle. Nobody stopped her, and nobody noticed her absence.

Still, she wasn't stupid. She maintained her ruse as a servant and eventually a peasant as she traveled by foot. Several times, knights of the realm stampeded past. She gave way but didn't try to hide or shield her face. The idiots rode past with their banners streaming and their visors lowered. She came to understand that they hadn't found her yet because she was meant to escape – the Wizard was ensuring her freedom.

Emboldened by this realization, she stopped at an inn along the way for food and a soft bed. Once again, fate favored her; she was able to pick a pocket for coin and pay for a room without attracting so much as a second glance. She sat amongst the common folk with a plate of food and a mug of ale and listened to the chatter.

"Crops are failing."

"You can't blame that on either the old Queen or the new King."

"I can do what I want," the man roared. He slammed his tankard down, sloshing drink onto the wooden table. His friend laughed raucously as he swore at the loss of alcohol. "It's blame them or blame the gods. I'd rather blame the one I knows exists!"

"Don't let your mum hear that talk."

"Hogswill. She won't hear nothing, s'long as you keep your fat mouth shut."

"Anyway, complaining won't bring the rain. You got more chance in asking the gods for that than our new ruler."

"Just a kid." He snorted and slurped down more of his beverage. "Can't even keep track of one prisoner, neither. Makes me wonder just how this kingdom's gonna go. Y'know what they've been saying – kid with a crown, kingdom 'bout to go down."

"Nobody says that."

He shrugged. "I said that. It'll spread, trust me."

Snow's expression curled into a snide smirk. Her darling daughter may have disagreed with her methods, but she had the kingdom running smoothly. People were fed, rules were followed, and criminals were punished justly. Justly, of course, was at her sole discretion, but she needed to keep a firm grasp on the reins. She considered her kingdom an unruly horse – she could either break it to suit her needs, or she could let it buck her. In many years, Henry may have made a fine horseman. Now, though, he would end up on the ground with a cracked head while the kingdom galloped out of his control.

Bored of their talk, she finished her meal and headed up to her waiting bed. Neither the food nor the amenities were to her standards, but she knew she needed to gather support before anything else – she would gain nothing by complaining, gaining attention, and revealing her presence. She would suffer the slights against her dignity now, and then pay her daughter back tenfold. When she slept that night, she dreamt of red skies and bloody rivers.

0-0-0

Emma tossed her armor aside. Under normal circumstances, she would take proper care of each piece, but her frustration made her mood escalate into a temper tantrum. Regina watched impassively from across the room, her eyebrow cocked but her lips sealed. She moved only when Emma reeled a fist back and prepared to punch the stone wall of their chambers. Grabbing Emma's arm, she shook her head slowly until the strength left Emma's limb.

"I can't believe she just slipped between our fingers!"

"She had help," Regina murmured. She pressed her body against Emma's back.

"I know it was the Wizard," Emma responded, her hands curling into fists. "But he'll never talk, and we have no way of stopping or containing him. The only benefit to having him around is he helps if he thinks doing so will benefit him."

"The risk is equal that working against us will benefit him."

"At least with him here, we can keep an eye on him." Emma lifted the arm that Regina wasn't attached to and ran a hand through her hair. There were whispers everywhere that she was ineffective, and she was beginning to believe them. "I don't know what to do, Regina. I was never the planner – I was always the one with the sword."

"You've always been able to keep a cool head in battle."

"That's so different. There's heat and pressure and-" Emma sighed and shrugged. "What's going on now, I don't know what to do. I spent too long taking orders and knowing I couldn't think. So now it's in my hands, and I have no idea what to do. If I had taken action sooner, my mother wouldn't have escaped. I should have let you-"

"No," Regina interrupted. "You made the correct decision given the circumstances. There's no telling what might have happened to me if you'd let me give into my darker desires."

Emma nodded stiffly and walked to the bed. She flopped down. "Things were easier when Snow was in charge."

"Easier? But better?"

"Not better, no. But there was so much less to worry about."

"You're taking responsibility."

"Just so I can foist it off onto Henry as soon as he's crowned. I feel…" Emma frowned, unsure of how to express just what she felt. There were too many emotions swirling in her gut, and no words in her vocabulary to understand them.

"Henry was raised to take on this burden," Regina replied. She rubbed a hand down Emma's arm. "Snow was preparing him for leadership from the moment he came into her care, was she not?"

"She was – but I don't want him to be the same sort of leader she was. And now she's out there somewhere, probably plotting and planning so she can return to being that sort of leader here. She's dangerous, and now she could be anywhere. According to Mulan, we already have a war about to break out – I don't need her taking advantage of that to reinstate herself."

"Do you think our forces are capable of fending Shan Yu off?"

"I think I need to start arming peasants and training them. Snow always believed that arming the lower class would give them ideas. I think it's more dangerous to not arm them."

"In the morning." Regina kissed along Emma's neck. "For now, just relax. All our problems can wait a few hours, can't they?"

Emma managed a tired smile. "Yeah, I guess so. Nothing to do now but wait for the sun to come up. We don't get much down time… I only got that one afternoon with Henry. I wish there was more time. He was acting a little – strange, I think. But I'm not sure."

"Tomorrow," Regina repeated.

Emma pulled until Regina was flush against her. She nuzzled against Regina's collarbone and was grateful that she wasn't alone. After all those years of isolation, loneliness, and thinking of herself as heartless, she was all too pleased to feel so much for Regina, even if she couldn't express most of it. She kissed Regina softly and dug her fingers into the other woman's hips. The world was in chaos, but this room was safe and warm.

0-0-0

The trees gave way to plains. Snow's feet were sore, though the blisters had long since popped, bled, and healed. A week of walking had gotten her fairly far, and then she'd liberated a horse for the rest of her trip. Upon waking in the inn, she'd realized that her best chance at taking back her kingdom was with Shan Yu's forces. She had plenty to offer him, should he return her crown to her. He had betrayed her once, so she would be prepared for any underhanded dealings he tried this time – she would outplay him, she decided. She would take over his forces with cunning and wile, and soon she would rule much more than the paltry kingdom the Knight had stolen from her.

"Halt."

She drew her horse up at the mounted guards galloped up to her. They wore helmets that covered most of their faces and nondescript armor so she couldn't tell to whom or what she was speaking. Shan Yu's banner flapped in the air, though, so she knew she'd found the right place. Personally, she felt that his symbol of a hawk snatching a rabbit was in poor taste, but she wasn't about to say anything.

"I am Queen Snow White. I've traveled far to meet with Shan Yu the Conqueror."

The two guards glanced at one another – or, at least, that's what she assumed they were doing as their helmets creaked and twisted. The one holding the flag shrugged, so the other responded, "What business do you have with our general?"

"I offer him wisdom." She sat straighter on her horse. "He wishes to invade my old lands – lands that I know inside and out. A siege goes easier with inside knowledge. All this I can offer him, and more."

"Dismount."

"I will remain where I am." She lifted her chin proudly. She was a Queen and would not walk simply because two lowly guards demanded it. One drew his sword and leveled the blade at her.

"Dismount."

"No."

"Then leave."

She examined the sword and found, even from a short distance, that it was nicked and notched with use. Understanding this to be anything but an idle threat, she delicately dismounted, though she refused to let go of her horse's reins.

"Come."

She strode along behind them, deciding as she walked in which ways she would end their lives for this small indignity. They would both suffer quick but painful deaths, she determined. Her thoughts were interrupted, though, as tents sprung up around them and the plains were filled with war horses, soldiers, and camp fires. There were so many warriors, she noted with pleasure, that taking down the Knight's insurgents would be child's play. As she watched a particularly beefy man in naught but a loin cloth swing a long bladed weapon around, someone snatched the reins from her hands.

She turned to snap at whoever had dared do such a thing, but her wrists were immediately bound with rope. She struggled for a moment and then was dragged up onto the back end of a horse. In front of her, one of the guards chuckled while she fought to right herself.

"You come not with wisdom but with trade value."

"You're a fool if you think my daughter will trade anything to get me back."

"We'll see," the guard retorted.

He spurred his horse onward and, despite nearly falling several times, she found herself carted toward an elegant palace in the distance. The palace paled in comparison to her own castle, but she had to admit that Shan Yu had a certain style. She was dumped rudely to the ground; she changed her mind abruptly. This guard would have a slow, painful death. Perhaps days of agony, she considered as she tried to rub her sore rear end.

"Take me to Shan Yu," she demanded. He would sort this out. He hadn't come to her aid before, but he had his reasons. The situation hadn't been ideal. Now, though, he must know that realm was ripe for the taking, and she could make that happen.

"Sure." The guard yanked her forward. For a moment, she strode willfully along with him – but the she realized that he was carting her down into the dungeons.


End file.
